


The Peace

by highlycommendable



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23792119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highlycommendable/pseuds/highlycommendable
Summary: The Senate is a troubling situation. Being a senator is even more so, especially when there’s the temptation of a certain Jedi Master around.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. Politics

I nod politely through Senator K’alee Mul’s incessant ramblings, with a painted smile and a blank mind. It’s easy to be a politician- if you’re good at pretending. The Twi’Lek continues without pause, talking about something one of the other Senate members had said to him. Every few minutes, I pair the conversation dully with an enamoured ‘ _yes, of course_ ’, or an ‘ _I completely understand_ ’. He’s growling in Huttese, too, an uncommon language on Coruscant, and one that I’d rather not have to converse in. It’s rough and throaty, and after bellowing my ignored thoughts to the conceited Senate for a few hours, I’m prepared to just collapse there and then in my blue robes.

I spot Padmé from a little ways behind. She hesitates, before pausing mischievously, tapping her bottom lip with a finger. I harden my gaze to her and nod again at K’alee Mul, who continues without thought. Padmé skitters up, her dress catching on the smooth floors. She wears an abominable gold headdress- one too rich and bejewelled for my liking. I preferred my silver circlet with the single aquamarine stone.

“Senator Mul, I have to apologise, Senator Saan is required for some business in the halls.” Padmé hauls me away with an arm around mine before Mul can even protest.

“Leila, do you ever say no? Mul would have kept you for cycles if it were not for me.” She gently quips, releasing her grip on my arm. She looks charming in her gown, with the huge circular headpiece and her soft smile.

“How can I ever repay you, Your Majesty?” I snipe back, narrowing my eyes at the teasing face Padmé pastes upon her features. “I really don’t want to meet this Jedi Master. Why must you go? Please stay with me.” I whine, letting her usher us into an elevator. Coruscant gleams with the heavy bulk of afternoon traffic, and a small stream of transport vehicles zip by the glass pod as we descend through the glorious Senate building. The Jedi Temple glimmers opposite, majestic and regal with mystery. I turn my nose up. Perhaps they should take a visit to the Underworld of Coruscant, or some of the Outer Rim planets. 

To be away from home is not a chore, but I miss the oceans. The Jedi should visit Pijal. At that, I snort internally.

“You know why I’m leaving, Leila. I can’t stay. My life is in danger, and I do love you, but Anakin and I must leave.” I raise an eyebrow at her softened tone around the Padawan’s name. She flushes and turns away. I decide not to comment, and simply let her lead us from the elevator at the entrance of the Senate Building. “Anyhow, Obi-Wan is an amazing Master to Anakin and he’s a good man.”

“I still do not understand why I must be protected. How am I the most threatened after you leave?” Padmé raises her own eyebrow to that and pauses in the corridor.

“You are my friend- and whoever is trying to kill me is not being pleasant about it, so they will come for you next. I’m sorry.” I recoil, and immediately gather her into a tight hug. She wraps her arms around my blue gown, and sighs. “I’ll miss you, Leila.”

“You would. I’ll miss you too, old friend.” Padmé is probably about to cry, I realise, and with that thought, I emerge into the Senate lobby. All manners of people mill around, Senators, assistants, Jedis, but none of these are the ones we are looking for. “Which one are we looking for, exactly?”

“Over there.” Padmé gestures mildly to a broad shouldered Jedi and his Padawan, who sulks against a wall. I’m not one to comment on silly crushes, but the way Padmé lightens at his presence is a little unnerving. I follow her as she picks up pace toward the men, and watch carefully as her brown gown halts its luxurious slide across the polished floor. Both Jedis perk up. They greet Padmé with one short bow, and begin chattering in a tone I recognise as somewhat polite. ‘Obi-Wan’ gives Padmé details on their recent discoveries, without sparing me a glance. Perhaps he thinks I am a handmaiden- Dorme, perhaps. I laugh inwardly. Dorme and I do not look much alike. She was born with thick, mahogany hair, where mine was spun with dark-gold and my eyes blanched with green.

I try not to eavesdrop on their conversation. Not all politicians are evil, contrary to popular belief. I’m quite quickly shaken from my thoughts by the mention of my name. As I think, the name Obi-Wan rings a bell. He was the Padawan joining the two Masters those many years ago on Pijal. I blink.

“This is Senator Leila Saan of Pijal.” Padmé murmurs, gesturing at me in my blue gown. It’s modest, with bared shoulders and a soft neckline. The bodice is cinched around my waist and fastened with a golden belt. Obi-Wan is awful at hiding his head-to-toe sweep of my frame. “My dearest friend.”

“Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. A pleasure to meet you.” I greet stiffly. He watches me carefully, but there’s a glint of some humour in his eye. I’m suddenly tempted to lean close and study him. Do Jedi Masters come like this every time? He is handsome, definitely. Padmé peers at me. I’m being watched on all sides. I throw my shields up and nod to the Master. “And Anakin, young Padawan. Padmé has told me about you.” Anakin’s face struggles to hide the elation. Padmé flushes bright red and lightly smacks my arm, with a forced smile through gritted teeth.

“Oh, Obi-Wan, I’m sure you both will get along brilliantly. She has a sense of humour that is incredibly hard to match. Come along, Anakin, we must be getting on the transport.”

“Senator Saan. It is my pleasure to be of your acquaintance, although, I worry the situation could have been more pleasant.” I narrow my eyes at the smiling man. He seems to falter for a beat.

“I’m sure no Jedi would have come out of their way to Pijal, nor to any of the Senate. But, I appreciate the sentiment.” I turn away from him, but feel his aura brushing against mine on my ruthless descent of the steps towards the awaiting transport. I pray quietly that he didn’t feel my Force pulsing alongside his.

A matter to be discussed later, perhaps.

“Come, Leila.” Padmé extends a hand to me, helping me up onto the transport. I sweep my skirt behind me and watch Obi-Wan leap, capable, onto the platform. We soon rise into the air, and I cross my arms self consciously across my chest. I hate flying. In any sense of the word. 

The transport suddenly lurches violently left, and I’m thrown off balance, tumbling into the arms of Obi-Wan, who steadies himself with a hand outstretched. An invisible force holds him upright. Gods! Fuck me! How embarrassing. I peel away from the smug looking Master and duck my head, with a whispered ‘sorry’. He smiles- yes! Smiles! 

Padmé hides her laughter behind her hand but stops when I shoot her a disparaging look beneath the silver circlet and thin, sheer hood that hangs around my shoulders. I grit my teeth and breathe through the rest of the short trip, until I’m permitted to say my goodbyes to Padmé, in the seclusion of a private conversation. Obi-Wan and Anakin speak on the other side of the transport.

“How will you survive?” She asks softly, in a joking tone, her hands finding mine in the folds of my gown. She blinks, eyes wet, and meets my gaze.

“I simply won’t, Amidala. I don’t think I can bear having another of those meetings without you- I mean, three hours? Without our communicators? What will I do?”

“I’m sure Devine Olicriss would love to hear your commentary on Senator Cor’s grey hairs.” The former-Queen jokes, brushing her hands over my shoulders and tucking my golden hair back into the hood. 

“Oh, yeah, right.”

Padmé smirks, inclining her head. She pauses before starting again.

“I’ll miss you. But I’ll write. I promise. Maybe I’ll get R2 to deliver it.” I smile softly at her. She takes my and squeezes. “Goodbye, Leila.”

“I’ll see you soon, Senator Amidala. And you better write me. I’m not standing around with just the company of a few Jedi and Senators, alright?” Padmé picks up a bag and moves to the door of the transport. 

“Have fun.”

I shoot her a look, before murmuring.

“May the Force be with you.”

Padmé and Anakin step from the transport, and disappear through the crowds by the ship port. I bite my nail nervously, watching her gown disappear between men and women and others alike. 

“To the Senate Apartment Complex, please, pilot.” Obi-Wan murmurs through to the flyer, who nods his understanding. I’m quick to push myself into a corner. I would not be falling into his arms again. Certainly not.


	2. An Empty Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila discusses her terms with Obi-Wan. Senator Saan plays an easy game with the Jedi Master over wine.

The apartment complex is what is now considered a dangerous place. A few floors down, Padmé was almost murdered in her sleep, and because of that, a few of the Senate had set out to find lodgings in a different place. I’m not bothered. The boring ones left- which is about ninety percent of them. The building barely thrummed any longer, which meant for less gossiping, eavesdropping and unlawful bribery that usually ended in broken treaties.

I open the newly installed military grade blast door and step inside, making room for the Jedi Master to pass through. The sitting room, with the attached balcony, was comfortable, plush, decorated how you liked and saw fit. Obi-Wan looked around, admiring the glamour and humility of the decorating. The kitchen, with a functioning set of appliances, ones that I refused to let droids use- simply because cooking was incredibly entertaining- sat alongside a long, elegantly set dining table with a regal vase full of flowers. 

I quickly shed my hood and my circlet. Obi-Wan stares, entranced, as my gold spun hair falls from its binds, shimmering in a sheet of glittering caramel.

He pauses before speaking, crossing his arms, crinkling his robes as he goes.

“I was instructed to sleep in your quarters, Senator Saan.” He murmurs, bowing his head. If I had any common sense, I’d ignore his face, but he almost looks embarrassed.

“Oh, you were? I thought the Jedi Code forbade that sort of thing?” I say sharply, quickly shedding layers of robes and dress. He watches a for a moment, unsure of whether to turn his eyes away or to continue the conversation. It’s good he’s feeling a little abnormal. The rumours were- Obi-Wan always played politics. I tilt my head at him once in the silk undershirt and tight tunic pants. I wore them under every dress, to be prepared for whatever may come. How dreamy of me, to hope for some semblance of action and excitement in the dull Senate Chamber.

I pull an ornate pitcher from beneath the dark-as-night top surface of a side-table, and pick two glasses from the cabinet. I don’t ask before pouring two glasses of the red liquid. I hesitate warily.

“Wine, Master Kenobi?” He seems a little more relaxed now I’m being slightly polite. But he shakes his head, nevertheless. I cock my own face at him, before shoving the glass into his hands. “Now, sit, come along. I’m not bothered with all this if you’re going to be uptight.”

“Uptight, Senator, is about the only thing I can manage.”

“Is that because of your wild Padawan?” Obi-Wan raises his glass to his lips. I incline my head, waiting for an answer. He swallows and shrugs. I watch him carefully shed his brown robe and expose the sandy ones beneath. I gulp down half my wine. Padmé didn’t really mention the physicalities of the Jedi. Although, it was probably because of her infatuation with the Padawan, no matter how quiet she kept her thoughts. I clear my throat, and the music player suddenly kicks up. Jesus Christ, Leila! I scold myself, and scoff silently. It’s ‘jazz’. Obi-Wan pauses before speaking, listening to the soft music.

“I suppose Anakin could be one reason.” Obi-Wan sighs. “The Council aren’t as accepting as you think.”

“To be uptight is to live with someone else’s hand around your balls. Do you not take risks?” I ask sharply. I suddenly wonder if I’m being too firm. Obi-Wan looks amused at the turn-of-phrase. 

“You’re quite the policitian.”

“I’ve heard you are, too. What do you expect me to be, civil?” I question him smoothly, finishing off my wine and sweeping up off of the settee to refill my glass. Obi-Wan relaxes what I consider to be a good mile. His arms fit along the raised back edge of the sofa elegantly, and I measure him in.

“I suppose politics is politics. I thought there might still be some good in the Senate.”

“I’m not sure about good, Master Kenobi. I’m certainly not good. Honourable, maybe.” I suggest, shrugging. The wine, full and fruity, slips down my throat as Obi-Wan begins speaking once more.

“Politics used to be about civility.”

“No, no. Not anymore. Politicians are more in love with the idea of self-satisfaction and public adoration, or public favouring, rather than the greater good for the Republic. I find money- credits, or metal, or jewels, or information, even- is the usual factor in an honourable act. I fear Senators Amidala, Organa and Orn Free Ta uphold the remaining good in our stupid little congregation.” Obi-Wan ponders his answer for a moment.

“What of you? Good? Is there any remaining in you?”

“I don’t… I don’t know, Master Kenobi.” I reapply the wry smile and take another sip of my wine. “You say the Council aren’t particularly accepting…”

“The Code binds us to one another in many ways, Senator Saan.” I wrinkle my nose. He cocks his head in question, settling his glass back to the table separating us. It’s empty. I fold my legs beside me, resting an arm on the cushions to admire him easier. 

“Senator… I am Leila here, outside that building, outside Coruscant, I may even be Lei, or Leilei, or… Leilie. This planet binds the Senate in many ways- one of which being my position. I do not romp around the underworld, or the streets, without an escort- which is embarrassing, of course. So, I suppose, the Senate isn’t so accepting either, Obi-Wan.” I say softly, offering a warmer smile, one that is a little easier to give after his admission. He is not all happy with the Jedi Council. “Perhaps we can work out some terms?”

“As long as it doesn’t include me having to escort you into all of the red-light district bars, I’ll be quite satisfied… Leila.” I smile- out of my own hands.

“There is a gala in a few days. You are invited, are you not?” I stand from the settee, sitting my empty glass back onto the tray with the wine pitcher. May it stain, for all I care. Wine is for social gatherings.

“Yes, all of the Council are invited.” Obi-Wan says roughly, his gaze a little glassy. He runs a hand through his hair in a distressed movement. “Don’t ask me to go shopping with you.”

“No, no… you don’t have to come into the shops with me. If I were with Padmé, we would have taken some of the guard with us, since two major planetary Senate normally congregate quite the amass of attention… but you’ll have to do.” I head for my bedroom quarters, holding my hand up to the fingerprint panel beside the grey door.

“I’ll have to do?” The Jedi answers, in an incredulous tone. 

I don’t turn to answer him, but I speak nonetheless.

“Yes, Obi-Wan, you’ll simply have to do.” When the doors open to my bedroom, I slip inside, leaving the Jedi Master in the sitting room. A breath hurtles dangerously fast from my lips, and I sigh, murmuring to myself. “Kriffin’ hell.”


	3. Dresses and Pretty Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan decides he hates shopping. Leila decides on a dress for the Union Gala.

“I regret stepping through the doors, Leila.” Obi-Wan mutters to the tulle and chiffon surrounded Senator, who blinks happily back at him. She didn’t directly strike him as a ‘shopping woman’, but as she had barked at him through the air as he landed their speeder in the ground levels, she ‘liked the shiny things!’. He quickly wondered how Padmé kept up with her. She’s dressed modestly today, in dark blue, a short, long-sleeved dress fastened around her waist tightly with a black belt. She wears tall boots and black pants, which are tucked into the brown shoes. Her hair is kept in a bun, high on her head, with ornate silver pins, and one delicate tiara across the crown of her skull.

Obi-Wan stares impassively at the mountain of pretty dresses Leila passes up, with their pastel tones, pink, yellow, green, and watches her veer toward the dark end of the rack. Something seems… off with her. An aura he can’t pick up thrums within her, one that she’s done very well at concealing- one that he finds himself embarrassedly infatuated with.

Reporting to Master Yoda the previous day had been… challenging. Especially after the unnecessary remarks he deployed about Leila’s amusing character. He mentioned her as an ‘old friend’, and that was quickly telling Obi-Wan not to comment, or pry. He ensured Leila was safe, and was then allowed back to the Senate apartment complex to quietly find sleep next door to his Senator. He quickly thought of Pijal, where she’d been born.

She certainly didn’t remind him of the people there.

They were quiet, calm, civil. They were tortured by the prospect of slavery and had been saved. Leila hadn’t mentioned that, at all, not even the known fact that Obi-Wan had been present on the planet for such fore goings. He watched her pluck a few dresses from the rack, her eyes barely mentioning his presence.

Perhaps he should have waited outside. There are a lot of women in this shop. A few Twi’lek eye him in passing. 

“Won’t you help me, Master Kenobi? It’s a lot more difficult than you think.” Leila coos from beside the racks, the dresses draped over an arm. A shop clerk, a Squamatan, waits for her to hand off the chosen dresses, a little shocked by Leila’s choices. “Okay, okay, I think these are my favourites. A favourite for you, Obi-Wan?”

He risks a glance at her chosen gowns.

“Aren’t those a bit… uh… excuse my impertinence, Senator.” The dresses are revealing- and that is being kind.

“I think I’ll have all four.” Leila states suddenly, grinning wildly. She hands off the piles of credits and orders for them to be delivered to the Senate apartment complex. “Now, Obi-Wan, you can relax, open your eyes.” Leila rests a hand on his lower arm, and he almost flinches but gives her an unimpressed look instead. “Do you want to go back to the complex for lunch? I asked Jar-Jar Binks-”

“You asked Jar-Jar to make lunch? You are joking.” Obi-Wan suddenly replies, as they step from the veil of the grey store, where women glance subtly at the tiara on Leila’s head, and the Jedi robes Obi-Wan is swathed in. He swallows down the anxious feelings pressing at his throat, and

gives Leila an off smile. 

“No, no, I asked…” She pauses. “Yeah. I asked Jar-Jar to, uh… make lunch.” She runs a hand across her forehead, her eyes fluttering shut. Obi-Wan chuckles softly. “Where do you have in mind?”

He grins.

—

Obi-Wan’s left me in a booth to speak with the owner, a lumbering Besalisk with a comparably kind smile. I trail my fingers absentmindedly along the diner table, the smell of fries and other precariously diet-ruining foods coating the whole business in a sticky haze of food. It’s only then I realise how damn hungry I am.

I look up and catch Obi-Wan’s eye in the midst of his conversation- one where he’s laughing at the owner, one where he looks cheerful. I give him a half-smile and return to staring through the window. All manner of transports and speeders pass beside the diner in long, thick lines of silvers and greys, trailing up further into the air with every parsec they travel. I suddenly imagine leaving the planet with Obi-Wan in pursuit- going home. A silly thought, I recognise, when Obi-Wan finally sits opposite in the booth.

“Master Kenobi. Good catch up?” I ask softly, taking the tiara from my head and sitting it on the table. Obi-Wan looks at it but hides his smile with the turn of his head.

“Something like that. I just had to inquire about something we discovered when Padmé was almost killed, a Kaminoan dart.” He pauses again, clasping his hands in front of his face. His features twist in deep thought and I accept the Jawa juice when the waitress sits it in front of me. “I might have to leave for a day, maybe two.”

“Why?” I ask sharply.

“Have you grown fonder of me than you care to let on?” Obi-Wan smiles wickedly, stroking over his beard. I blink, twice, then shake my head.

“When one’s life is in danger, it is always wise to keep the protector in good thoughts.” I murmur, fiddling with the glass of juice. “And I had worse ideas about the Jedi than true, I suppose.” I supply, leaning back in the booth. “I think our first meeting was… a little lacklustre. I’m not sure what you were expecting.”

“I was expecting a Senator. A neutral, irritating woman, or one that insisted on sharing their opinions every five minutes. That’s, at least, what most of the Senators do.” He pauses again, looking up through long lashes, his baby-blues flickering. My throat dries, no matter how much Jawa juice I chug. “Padmé didn’t tell me how intelligent you were. Or hostile.” He murmurs. “Or how beautiful.”

I shoot him an accusatory look. He chuckles softly, shrugging off my sudden change in character. My heart thrums to the beat of the Force, and he’s suddenly quite… overpowering. 

“I didn’t realise you were a flirt, Master Kenobi. I’ll add that to my character evaluation.”

“Character- What? Are you analysing me, Senator?”

I conceal my smile with the back of my hand and roll my shoulders. His eyes glance to the lines of my neck and exposed collar bone. 

“I’m simply… remembering your character, Obi-Wan. As a politician, one must understand boundaries, and usually, my personality supplies me with a few enemies. They don’t appreciate my wit or my sense of humour perhaps as much as you do, or Padmé does.” Obi-Wan nods solemnly. “They tolerate me, though, otherwise the Supreme Chancellor likely would have eradicated me from power of Pijal.”

“Pijal… it is a beautiful planet.” Obi-Wan chances.

I turn my head down.

“Yes. The oceans are quite something. It is a shame such atrocities graced the surface. I was not sure of the issues. I’ve been on Coruscant for many years. You were young when you went, weren’t you?”

“Seventeen years old. I was still a Padawan.” He doesn’t seem to want to elaborate on the Padawan note.

“Yes, I was on Coruscant, then.”

“How old were you?”

“I was thirteen years old.”

“A Senator? At thirteen?”

“No, no… I was… just training.” I feel the lie picking at my teeth, grinding my bones together. “It’s been many years since then… how old are you, if I may ask?” I test, intertwining my hands on the table.

“I’m thirty-five years old.”

“Young for a Jedi Master?” I ask tentatively.

“You flatter me.” He murmurs, giving a devilish smile. I pause, but return it, shrugging to seek a little more casual. I suddenly get a feeling that I’m being a touch… interrogatory. 

“Anakin is younger than Padmé, but that does not stop their feelings for one another.” I chew my lip. “Do you seek to break them apart? The Jedi Code forbids attachment… love… does it not? I just assume that you, as his master, are expected to keep him in line.”

“Sometimes…” He sighs softly, brushing a hand through his hair. “We cannot stop such feelings of attachment. Sometimes it is better to just keep those things secret.” He raises his eyes to mine.

I feel a blush coat my cheeks. I pray the light covering of powder covers the pink.

“Secrecy… it sounds like a mighty Jedi sin, Obi-Wan. Do you not wish against it?”

“Like I said… we are humans.” He holds my eye. “Attachment is sometimes necessary. Love… that is something no human can control.”


	4. Fire and Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Senate, Leila has a disagreement with her Senator allies. A formidable enemy meets her in the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mentions and connotations of sexual assault and mistreatment! Be warned!

I feel almost insulted. They bicker incessantly between themselves from their pods, Senator Kallis from Corellia debating his side with one angry tone, and Senator Julen debating his side from his Denon pod. The Supreme Chancellor doesn’t raise a hand to stop their arguing, where both explain differences between slavery and between service. I blink, leaning forward in my pod, toward the microphone.

“Excuse me for interrupting, Senators, but what you are arguing is almost a breach of our humanitarian laws. I feel it unnecessary to remind you both of laws against slavery?” I raise my eyebrows sharply in question. “What you are debating, Senator Kallis, is an act that will turn Corellia into the biggest slave-trading planet in the galaxy. I’m not sure what else you are trying to imply- but that is how it comes across.”

“Senator Saan, I do not remember asking you to join in on this conversation.” Senator Kallis hisses, gripping the front of his hovering pod. Ours disconnects from the wall and joins his, balancing in the midst.

“Ask me you did not, but I was rather enamoured to take part, since my planet recovered from such atrocities, and here you are promoting them- in the middle of the Senate!” I say sharply, cocking my head at the man in his pod. “Supreme Chancellor, do you not have anything to say to a declaration of slavery?” I turn my attention on Palpatine. He doesn’t speak for a moment.

“This meeting is adjourned. We’ll continue it in the next congregation.” My jaw drops, and without my command, my pod slowly drifts back into its place. My Pijal representors murmur their thanks, but leave me be in the cold, grey room of the Senate. It’s then, in that very moment, when I wonder if the Republic had already fallen. 

My heart drops to my stomach and stays there, downturning my lips and likely casting a visible storm-cloud over my head.

“Senator Saan.” A poisonous voice drips from the doorway behind me, snaking along the walls toward where I’m standing. “A pleasure it is to see you again, cya’rika.” I turn quickly, staring at the man in the arch. Senator Niko gives a honeyed smile and steps a few beats closer. My throat closes up. I pick at a weapon that is not hanging at my waistband, and freeze up as he approaches. Those hands… darkness… choking. I’m almost crying, I realise, just at the presence of this man. “Still so outspoken, I notice.”

“Nothing has changed, Senator Niko, sir.” I direct my gaze to the floor when his boots enter my peripheral. I call through the Force- to my Jedi, for help.

“So submissive. Just for me?” I do not move when he sidles close. I can smell the thick, delicate male perfume off his chest, clothed in thick black material, and can sense him like a poison. He’s taller than me by a head, dwarfing me into the rim of my pod. “Still as beautiful as the night I had you…” His hands comes up, sweeping the painted line of my cheek bone. I flinch away, rushing to the furthest side of the pod. “Don’t run from me, little cya’rika.”

“I’m not running. Sir.”

“Good.” His hands suddenly grapple with my wrists, and I’m pulled forth into his arms once more, where his scent chokes me. I whimper, tugging away from him. “Don’t be so defensive. We’ll have fun this time. I forgot how feisty you were.”

“Please, Senator, don’t…”

“Senator Niko.” A tear rolls down my cheek, and I’m released, quicker than a breath. Obi-Wan stands in the doorway, hand outstretched. I look back to Niko, where he is pinned, with his hands in the air. “I’m assigned to protect Senator Saan. I am a Jedi Master. You shall rethink your actions.”

“But Senator Saan and I were just reminiscing over lost time. Weren’t we, cya’rika?” Obi-Wan’s eyes gently drift to my hunched form.

“Senator Niko…” I’m speechless, and I brush past Obi-Wan to leave, my feet clicking against the polished floors of the high chambers.

“Leila! Senator!” I hitch the dark plum material of my dress high to quicken my pace, but I’m halted quite fast by the tug of Obi-Wan’s insistent Force. I’m not sure if he means to do so, but nevertheless, I wipe the tears from my cheeks and face the approaching Jedi head-on. “What the hell was that all about?”

“Nothing. Senator Niko believes he has rights towards me. That’s all. I’ll be going back to the apartment now. You don’t need to escort me.” I turn away from him, pushing a few flyaway hairs back into the tight ponytail at the back of my head. I’m quick to begin walking once more, fast, down that hall.

“Leila, it is as if you’ve forgotten my sworn duty to you. I will always escort you, no matter what.”

—

I throw myself into the apartment before Obi-Wan can open his mouth again. I’m quick to shed down my outer layers, the ones where Niko had touched me, and toss them into the trash compactor. Obi-Wan watches, slack-jawed. I unpin my hair, letting it fall free around me, and hiss to myself as I go. I toss my shoes off, and leave my under things on, swiping up the wine pitcher once more, and filling a glass to the rim- almost.

Obi-Wan doesn’t speak, not if he wants to, anyway.

He watches me unravel with an unholy- ever so Jedi silence, and doesn’t comment. He simply sits down on that settee and sheds his dark robe.

“Leila-”

“Obi-Wan. Please… I don’t…” My voice wavers, cracking on the disjointed syllables. I’m broken. Destroyed- glued back together with a piece or two missing. Screw politics. Screw public face. I bite so hard on my bottom lip blood blossoms between my teeth. That’s when Obi-Wan stands and sits close. He sits so close that my thigh almost touches his.

“It’s alright. I’ll be here to protect you.”

“Obi-Wan… I don’t think… Senator Niko, he is more powerful than even the Supreme Chancellor… I cannot… I can’t face him.” Obi-Wan’s face is a mixture of emotions. I wonder what he thinks as the Senate ice-queen deteriorates in front of him, crumbling into tears and shards of broken heart- broken soul.

“What has he done to you?” Obi-Wan asks softly, his voice so pained I’m brought to tears again. My body throws up empty walls, ones that can’t sand, and are broken down, immediately, when Obi-Wan tentatively puts his arm around my shoulders. I freeze up, peering curiously at the reserved Jedi through glossy tear curtains. He doesn’t display much on his features, so I throw myself into his chest. His heart leaps beneath my fingers as I cry. 

Touch-starved, we stay like that for hours. My tears dry on him, and his fingers find home on me.

Broken- but half fixed.


	5. Banned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Senator Leila is banned from Senate, and Commander Cody returns to give her some company. Obi-Wan has not been heard from in two days, but the situation on Geonosis betters, and Leila is surprised by his return.

I read the datapad out-loud in the sprawling sitting room of my apartment.

“Because of your outburst yesterday within the neutral Senate Chamber, you have been exiled from Senate for a period of seven full day cycles. Your invite to the gala still remains. Please consider your audience next time you join us in the Chamber.” I hurl the datapad to the settee, and run my hands through the long gold tresses that sit untouched. It’s the third time I’ve read that report.

Obi-Wan has been gone for two and a half days. I’ve been pretty much trapped inside my apartment since he left, and with him, all my cheerful-ness, apparently. Then again- we’ve barely spoken about the moment between us as he held me. Lucky, really, because I do hate reflecting on the past.

I scoop up my wine and raise my head when a knock cleaves through the almost-empty air. A soft jazzy tune plays from my music speaker.

“Yes?”

The door panel opens. Captain Cody stands in the archway, blaster in hand, armour shiny. I blink for a second at him- but he doesn’t speak for another moment.

“Do you want some company, Senator?” He asks softly. I realise my tear-streaked cheeks and wine glass are probably the give-away. I pace towards him, dressed in just a comfy garnet cape and a white simple dress, but offer him up a makeup-free smile.

“Cody, you’re the sweetest. How are things on the front lines?” I ask. “Do you want some- never mind.” I put the wine back away.

“Things are… they could be better. Felucia is being looked after by Master Secura, Master Plo Koon is in the skies. We’re taking pretty heavy losses, but you know Rex and I.” I nod, taking another sip of my wine. I’d gotten to know Rex and Cody since they’d been put on my guard. They were on leave from the battlefields, back on Coruscant, but seemed to enjoy protecting me well enough. I hadn’t gone shopping or anything- since a couple of fully armoured clones would bring more attention than one well dressed man in robes.

“How is Rex?”

“He’s good- excited for Padawan Skywalker to become a Knight in the coming weeks. He favours him over Master Kenobi.” My head raises at his name.

“How is Obi-Wan? Any word from him?”

“No, not yet, but we’re supposed to be shipping out to Geonosis tomorrow. There’s a Jedi problem there. Maybe he’s there. I know he made a transmission to the Jedi Masters here to tell them to get reinforcements.” Cody explains. “I hope he’s alright.”

“Yeah. So do I. Well, will you let me know if any more word comes through about the Geonosis plans? I’m banned from Senate for a while.” Cody snorts with laughter beneath his mask, and I give him a deadpan look, him taking that as note to leave. I look at Obi-Wan’s favoured glass for wine, and sigh, picking up the glass and holding it gently in one hand. I was worried. He hadn’t been heard from in two days.

Mistakes have most certainly been made. The glass raises from my hand and sinks back to the side table through the Force.

Perhaps if I had been kept on as a Padawan, things may have been easier- easier to avoid, easier to repair.

—

EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO.

“Yes, Master.” I say strongly to the tall female Twi’lek. She hands up my lightsaber, a beautifully crafted blade, one that glows with the pale turquoise of a Kyber crystal. I take it carefully, balancing it in my hand, while the targets come up from the ground. 

“Now, my Padawan, take these targets.” I’m quick to flash forward, sweeping two heads off with a cleave of the glowing beam, and slicing through the torsos of the remaining three. “You show more competence every day, Leilei.” Master Sura Mito glances down at me with a glowing smile. “I expect they’ll be asking you for tips soon- the Generals.”

“I hope not, Master. I’m not good at the thinking part.”

“Recklessness, sometimes, is the saving grace of many Jedi. Qui-Gon’s padawan is just as capable as you, my little one.” Sura runs her hand through my short cut hair, cropped close to my jaw in a straight line. “Now, you know I must go up to the fleet alone. Master Arfinh will look after you for now.”

“Yes, Master. Do come back quickly! I want to continue training!”

“Of course, my little one.” She’s gone through blast doors in moments.

—

I take the lightsaber from the hidden box in the very depth of my wardrobe. It’s clean, still clean, and shining with a gleam of alloy metal. Perhaps if things had gone differently, I’d be out there with Obi-Wan right now, not squabbling over farming rights and produce prices on planets three-hundred parsecs away.

I remember when they told me I’d be exiled from the Padawan training centre. I was finished- that’s what they had decided. Master Sura had been attacked on her way up from Coruscant by an enemy ship, one they couldn’t identify- and had died. No Master would take me on- nor any Knight. My time was up.

Yoda’s face flashed before me once more. The feeling of belonging had been erased then, and since that, I’ve never truly belonged anywhere. 

They always said my lightsaber was special- with the white blue tint and the wildly powerful beam. Shame they hadn’t managed to get it. I’d fled before they took it, and then had travelled back to Pijal. Obi-Wan was far gone by the time I returned home, and then I’d begun politics study.

Now, I live minutes from my old home, where I cannot be, where I belong.

There’s voices in the sitting room suddenly, and I stand, quickly, peering through the frosted glass of my bedroom chamber door. I put the saber away. I recognise that voice, and rush through the door. Obi-Wan’s back is turned to me, but he grins anyhow, almost noticing my presence. He’s speaking to someone on his comms, but signs off quickly.

“Senator Saan.” He nods sternly, and turns on me. Battle-worn, he looks, but smiling. “We beat the droids at Geonosis. The gala’s being brought up to tomorrow, so get ready to start partying.” I unpin my cape and rush toward him, throwing my arms around his neck. He jerks backwards, shocked by my sudden attack, and quickly finds his hands along my waist. I push my face into his shoulder. “Did you miss me, Senator?”

“Oh, yes, it’s been so boring. I need my shopping assistant back.” He laughs, and lets me go. There’s a solemn look in his eyes, and I find myself blinking warily into them. “What?”

“Anakin’s becoming a Knight in the next few days. He no longer can benefit from my teaching alone.” I sigh, brushing down Obi-Wan’s robes with a softened smile. “I’m proud, but I feel with our new ranks as Generals, he may become… power-hungry.”

“It’ll be alright, Master Kenobi.” He pauses, staring deeply at me, so much so, I wonder if he might just collapse there and then. Suddenly, his hands brush along my jaw, thumbs grazing my cheekbones. My eyes widen of their own command, and I stare blankly at him. What the hell?

He drops his hands quickly enough, and shakes his head with a short smile.

“I need to put in an order for some clean, formal robes. Have you chosen your dress?”

“Yes, Obi. You’ll have to wait for tomorrow to see it though, unfortunately. I’m making my debut five minutes later than everyone else. I do love a good dress-showing off. I’ll… um… there’s some food in the preserver. I’ll go back to bed now.” I turn toward my chamber. “I’m happy you’re back, Obi-Wan.”

“As am I.”


	6. Galas and Balconies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Senate Gala is... an interesting affair. Anakin and Padmé are finally home.

Padmé finally stands among us once more that night. She’s glowing in a silver gown, one flowing with molten metal, with a diamond-encrusted head-dress and shining cheeks. She stands tall in heels and holds a glass of wine with some decorum. I run my own fingers over my own glass and peer down through the folds of the beautiful merlot-red dress I was swathed in.

Over the thick dark material, a shimmery sheer sheet lay, spreading out from my feet in perilous swirls. I’d pinned my hair in a long, sleek ponytail at the very back of my skull, then threaded it with gold threads, sitting my favourite little tiara onto the empty expanse over the crown of my head.

“So, what did I miss?” She asks over a sip of wine. 

“Not much. I’m banned from the Senate for a few days. Senator… Niko came to me after a meeting.” Padmé does a startling double take. “I was fine. Obi came along in time.”

“Like that changes the fact that he came anywhere near you! I thought I made it clear enough all those months ago.” She grips my lower arm in a tight hold, over the gold bracelets of thin metal. “What he did to you was not right, evil, and is punishable by exile if the Council ever found out. If the Supreme Chancellor found out-”

“Padmé.” I place my hand delicately over hers, oblivious of the Jedis looking at us from across the way. “Let’s just drink and be merry?”

“You can’t just push away your problems, Leila. I love you, but please, he’s an awful person-”

“Tatooine doesn’t think so. This is his, what, seventh year in the Senate? You and I have only got six between us. He’s a tyrant, perhaps, but over the top, he’s a charming, handsome man of power. I’m certain the Senate would rather keep him in than me, especially with my new-found ban.”

“It doesn’t matter what the people see- you and I both know that is a veil to get into power. Everyone does it. You and I and Organa may not have had to, but, please… I know how the ordeal wears on you.” I turn away from her and finish my wine.

“I’ll consider speaking about it, okay? I just need some air for now. Go catch up with those you’ve missed. Master Yoda, perhaps.” I clasp her hands once more and pass across the ballroom with a steady pace. The doors along the balcony are wide open, their vein-like glass panels glowing with starlight. I breath sharply through my nose, settling my hands on the cool stone balustrade. 

The sky far above Coruscant is cloudless, sparkling with stars brighter than the lamps far down in the city below. There’s the suggestion of a Padawan or two a ways down against the steps of the Jedi Temple, but the streams of transports, ships and speeders gleam much starker. I trail my fingertips in symmetrical circles along the cold arches against my thighs. They are ornate, with spirals of patterns and flowers of far away planets. I’m tempted to throw my tiara to the pits of Coruscant, but drop my hand.

“Leila?” A soft voice calls from beside me, and I turn to face Obi-Wan, who’d not only had a robe change, he had also cut his hair a mighty lot shorter. I blink hollowly at him for a moment, before cocking my head, and giving him a warmed smile. “Ah, I was wondering if you’d recognise me.”

“It’s those baby blues that give you away, Obi-Wan, my dear.” I tap my fingernails on the stone railing before facing him fully.

“Wonderful dress.”

“You know me, Master Kenobi. I’m always one for a show.” I brush my hands down the tight material along my ribcage, fingers grazing the red jewels lining the low v-neck. Obi-Wan clears his throat and raises his eyes back to my own. “I like your hair. Much more… regal.”

“Regal? I’m not sure if a Jedi Master is supposed to be so ‘regal’.” He stands close, too looking out over the planet city. I edge closer, to conceal the eyes of the gala as much as possible.

“Anakin and Padmé?” I ask softly, quiet as a whisper. He clears his throat with a half-shrug. “I can’t tell with Padmé. She wears a ring on her finger, but whether such a thing is a bond between them, I’m not sure. She wears a hundred others, too.” I stroke my fingers over my right hand, outlining the darkly painted and shaped nails.

“Anakin seems a little less… immature, perhaps. What training I could have left him with I’ll simply have to put across as advice. We’re all Generals now.” I nod silently. “May I ask exactly what you and Padmé were discussing that provoked you to flee out here?”

“Flee… I did not flee.” I hiss, turning my head. “Senator… Senator Niko and I have a history.” I murmur, too quiet to be heard any where other than our human blockade. Obi-Wan turns his own face toward me. He pauses before speaking.

“Romantic?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” I graze my fingers over his and will my memories to flow from one to another. They run like streams of blood across a battlefield, and I fill his mind with my pain, but nothing more than the numbness I cradled with those few minutes.

“Leila, oh, Leila… I…” He withdraws his hand, blinking solemnly through now empty memories. I give him the faintest smile. “I’ll strike him down where he stands, if you’d like. He’s hidden in the furthest corners of this gala, I… I can sense him, now.” Obi-Wan trembles with a newfound emotion- anger, one which I’d never seen amongst the Jedi’s strong features.

“Obi-Wan.” His eyes raise, tentatively, almost like he’d realised his loss of control. “I’ll deal with it myself. It is a political matter, and I will make it so. Please, do not risk your state of mind for something so trivial.”

“Trivial?” He exclaims. He scoops up my hands between his calloused fingers and holds them for a moment. “No matter as serious as this is trivial. Not with anyone.” He pauses, staring deep at me. “Certainly not with you, my Senator.” I flush red, dipping my head down to my chest, embarrassed through my own mistake. Then, suddenly, he clasps my fingers to his mouth, and presses a feather-light kiss to them. I almost choke on the night air, looking up at the handsome Jedi through my painted lashes, as his soft lips brush over my new manicure. 

“Obi-Wan- oh…” Anakin stands at the doorway to the balcony. Padmé is not far behind. I step astutely away, too scared to meet either of their eyes. “The gala is finishing. I think everyone is going back to their respective… uh… homes. Master Yoda asked me to ensure you would escort… uh… Senator Saan back to her quarters as usual.”

“Oh. Yes, of course.” The four of us stand there together, all shy, until I poke Obi-Wan in the ribs and give Anakin and Padmé a parting smile. 

“Padmé, we’re still doing breakfast tomorrow, right? Your place?” She nods silently, with a wicked smile, which I’m not sure is for our collective embarrassment or her excitement for some much needed girl time. “Obi-Wan. Come along.”


	7. Intruder Intruder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having tea with Padmé immediately turns into a thirst-fest. There is a threat posed to Leila in her apartment.

“You’re telling me that you got married on Naboo- one of the most beautiful planets in the galaxy, and didn’t tell me? Didn’t even ask me to be a bridesmaid?” I ask, scandalously offended over the rim of a delicate teacup “I’m hurt, sister.” I quip, giving her a wicked smile.

“You know the risks yourself,” She presses, turning her head to check for eavesdropping. “I trust you with my life, but Anakin… the Jedi are bound to the Code. Although he parades celibacy… it’s not quite so simple… and it was a quick ceremony.” I raise an eyebrow.

“So you’ve finally been fucked?” I ask sharply, eliciting a gasp from Padmé, while she chokes on her tea. “What?”

“Perhaps I had… What about you? Your so-called ‘dry spell’… how long has that been going on?” I simper at her over the rim of the pink teacup. She nibbles the edge of a sand cookie, and blinks innocently at me.

“You’re hilarious. I’ve… it’s been a little while. To be honest, Padmé, I’ve had my entire female frame directed quite simply toward that of an unavailable Jedi Master.” I murmur, much to the surprise of Padmé who slaps her hand on the table between us. “What?” I ask to her youthful, gleeful face. “He’s handsome, and capable… it’s just a shame such Codes pervade the human way of life.” I give her a wicked smile, and raise an eyebrow. “Is he any good in bed?”

She flushes and tosses a teaspoon at me. I duck out of the way and raise an eyebrow, pressing her further.

“How am I supposed to know? It’s not like I’ve been through the Underworld…” She murmurs, embarrassed. I snort and roll my eyes. She offers me a crude gesture, and I act in mock horror. “I’ve missed you, Leila.”

“Of course you have.”

—

I wonder why Obi-Wan’s being so quiet on the walk back through the apartment complex. Perhaps it’s his accidental breach of such Code rules as he did last night- or maybe he’s just tired. I hope it’s the latter. I don’t want him to be like this all the time. I know what the Code means to him, but one simple slip up was sure to be forgiven. 

We just said goodnight after the gala. No touches were exchanged, nor soft and honeyed words. Perhaps something has changed between us. Regret lingers in the air as I punch in the code for my apartment.

I am wondering, though, why the Jedi Council has kept him on my guard for so long. The Clone Wars were just beginning, so there’s no doubt he’ll be swept away to the front-lines soon, but Padmé has been home for a few days. I would have thought all power would be congregated around her. Then again, maybe my slip of the mouth in the Senate was enough to increase tensions between enemies and I. 

I’m stupid really. All the mess could have been avoided if I’d just ignored the fruitless, dull debates between planets many parsecs away from my own. I had a duty to do, and I would do it.

When the apartment door opens, a funny feeling settles in my stomach. Perhaps it’s the lingering feeling that I’ll have to deal with a sour Master Kenobi while he ponders over his mistakes considering me. Something is not right.

The apartment gleams with a glamour I can’t quite pick up. The datapad I’d left turned off now blinks faintly on the coffee table, a news article lighting up the front panel. I frown, pausing in the doorway, but push my gut feeling to the side and wander inwards. The place seems deserted. Maybe they’d returned cleaners to the building, and an accidental nudge had set off the pad. I blink around the dark, starlight illuminated room. Everything glows faintly in a shroud of pale silver.

Obi-Wan murmurs something else into his communicator before finishing up just outside of the door.

A glimmer catches my eye. A shine, the long shape of a slim crescent, hides behind the door. I take two paces to the left, and freeze up.

Someone glares at me from the darkness. Their aura is concealed. Obi-Wan is not quick enough to react.

The scythe blade raises high and swings down in an arc, slicing through the air where Obi-Wan can only deflect the blow with a haphazard light of his brilliant blue blade. I shriek, just as two more slip through the darkness, warped in dark leathers and shining oil slick armour.

“Call Anakin!” Obi-Wan shouts, quickly morphing into battle-stance. I scramble to my feet, sliding along the corridor to my room, when another appears from the corner of it.

They’re hulking, face covered by a visor, holding another one of those scythe things- this one glows like a vibro-blade. I unbuckle my belt and throw aside the outer layers of my robe.

This was a mistake I would never take back.

I block the first two of the adversary’s hits with my arms, crossing them up in a defence position, before ducking under their arm and behind them. I aim a kick for their lower-back, and they sprawl across the floor, balance thrown off. But they’re up quickly, and manage a punch along my jaw- one that will probably last for a few days, knocking me into a daze. It’s sure been a while.

I speed up my attack, littering hits along the ribcage of my enemy, and a trio of sharp kicks to their thighs.

’Cripple their method of movement, then go in for the finish, my Padawan’, Sura whispers in my ear. I spur myself on, spinning on able feet, assaulting my enemy into the ground, until they simply twitch and lie still in place, silent. Knocked out. There are still sounds of struggle from the living room. I raise my hand to the wardrobe and open it, the bow far inside slowly rising to my hands.

There’s a twitch in the Force. It’s like Obi-Wan’s panicking, thinking there’s a Force user in here that isn't me. I take the lightsaber out and admire it for a millisecond. All shining alloy metal, the switch is a clean mesh material, and the emitter is sharp, rounded spikes. I throw open the door to the sitting room with a wayward arm.

Obi-Wan looks my way for a moment. He’s overpowered by four of the strange guard, but they all pause when I appear.

I blink at my warrior for a beat, and click the lightsaber on. The room fills with an eerie turquoise glow.

“Get away from my Jedi.” Two run for me, but I’m quick to block them off with a swing of my blade, their own fizzling along the hot line of aqua. I take one down with a surprise swing to their abdomen, the smell of cauterized flesh a familiar foe, from years gone by. They crumple in a heap, and I’m onto the next, attacking with a succession of sharp, accented swings, before I swap to the other hand. 

With one swift stab, I’ve ended them, too, and they lie, gone along my apartment floor.

Obi-Wan’s managed one, and now strikes the other one with years of mastered precision, genius calculation, oppressing the tired enemy into a harsh defence stance. But when they produce a hidden blade, I swiftly act, raising my hand, and drawing them close with the violent pull of the Force. They crumple beneath my feet, and I swing my lightsaber down, slicing through their chest. One breath, and they’re gone.

“Leila… what…”

“We have a little to speak about.”


	8. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila and Obi-Wan discuss her past. They finally understand one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and leave Kudos! Thank you! 'v'
> 
> I also realised I didn't leave warnings on one of the other chapters, soz :(

The apartment is almost silent. Not completely, as the night rolls in thicker over Coruscant and the multitude of transports, speeders and bikes pick up with the darkness’ businesses. Obi-Wan sits on the settee, his hands propping up his jaw as he hunches over in his seat. I stand close to the balcony, saber discarded on the coffee table. 

Some of the Jedi had already come to dispose of the bodies, and Obi-Wan had taken a quick moment to tell them what happened- taking credit for all five, of course. I raise a hand, and the music player turns on, slow and quiet, sweeter than honey through the empty air.

Obi-Wan finally blinks up from staring at my saber.

“You’re a Jedi.” He whispers.

“Was. Key word, was, Obi-Wan.” I hiss, barely turning my head to register him.

“Powerful. You’re… I can feel your Force. I can feel it.” He murmurs, standing from the sofa. “You used it to project your memory onto me… I just assumed it was my own, being bold, stealing your thoughts for me…” He’s piecing parts of the forgotten puzzle back together. I stay quiet, letting him think out loud. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand? I am bound by the Force. I was chosen as a baby, and now I struggle with it as an adult.” I mumble, inclining my head to spy his silhouette edging closer to the balcony.

“But why did you have to leave?” 

I whirl on him, my silken pants sticking to my thighs as I go, the navy blue glistening in the starlight. He looks alarmed when I raise a finger out the balcony, towards the Jedi Temple.

“Why? I left because no one there wanted me. My Master was killed in an attack above this very planet, and she still whispers in my ear sometimes, but they,” I jab my finger at the huge building across the way. “They did not want me. They refused to take me on as a Padawan. I was left, abandoned, in the middle of Coruscant, a child.” Obi-Wan is certainly shocked, his hand coming up to his mouth, his eyes hollowed like a shell. They pool with emotion as I crumble. “I had to make it back to Pijal, one way or another. I stole, I killed, I ran.”

“Leila…”

“They did not want me, because they’d decided the Dark Side had taken me. I was too powerful. I belonged, and then I didn’t. Quick as that. Sura would have told them… I was just cursed with power.” I whisper, voice wavering. My gaze drifts to the floor.

“Leila, I’m… I’m so sorry. I wish… I wish I could have known you as a child-” He suddenly cuts off. His eyes nervously raise to my own. “Leila. I want you to tell me right now- did I know you?”

“I saw you across the Temple at Master Qui-Gon’s side sometimes. A few times. Four, maybe five. I was at the temple for a few years… you could not have known, especially when you only looked at your Master.” I murmur into my hands.

“If I had forgotten you, I don’t think I could have ever forgiven myself.” He hisses, sighing softly. I watch him carefully. “I’m happy you left the Order.”

“You’re happy?” I ask incredulously, shooting an icy glare at him, where he stands a foot away. 

He marches over, in three strict strides, and suddenly pulls me flush against his chest, where warmth radiates deliriously, and he gently runs a hand along the dip of my bare back. I gasp, the touch so foreign, I can’t get used to the feeling quick enough.

“I’m happy you’ve missed such cruelties that the Council have accompanied. We are skewed in wisdom, arrogant. We are not the same people we once were. Now the unfortunate see us as war-starters, as the privileged guards.” He says softly, sending a chill down my spine. I clutch the soft sandy material of his robe and plunge my face into his shoulder. “In a way, you are lucky. Allowed to love and to attach as you please. Live as you want.”

“I can’t live with such burdens as I have experienced. I’m wondering whether the reason you were placed on my guard is the simplicity of my power growing. Master Yoda must feel it. To protect me from the world.” I mumble. “I was half-trained. Capable of many things, but knowing self-restraint, and knowing self-control, I did not… I was abandoned by those elders. You and Qui-Gon were not on planet when it all happened.”

“We were on Pijal. We missed each other by a moment.”

“Missing one another as children is hardly anything. We would have just gotten a leg up on discussing society’s failure eighteen years earlier.” His hands, both, move to my back, thumbs stroking over my spine in slow, languorous touches. “Do you feel it?” There’s a tug in the Force, a dwindling call, a pull on my heartstrings, when he breaks away to look at me.

“Yes.” He breathes.

“Bound by the Force. The Gods look down on us as one.”

“Yeah, right. The abandoned Apprentice and the General Master. One and the same.” I whisper, my hands sliding to his collarbone. I stare down, into the emptiness beneath our feet. “I like the hair.” I’m able to say, drifting my right hand along his handsome face. He leans into my touch, and my heart is blasted open, a thousand feelings suddenly spilling out like a broken glass.

“I like… you.”

“How juvenile.” I laugh quietly, catching his gaze as it softens among my giggle. He reaches up and takes my hand from his face, resting it along his heart. 

“You have… captured my heart. My Senator.” He murmurs, quite obviously on the fence of the Code and betrayal. I give a smile of teeth, and he returns it.

“I do like giving chase to things I can’t have.”

“Things? I’m hurt.” He whispers, cocking his head ever so slightly. “It’s certainly been a while, heart.” He says to himself. “I haven’t… I…”

“I’ll show you.” I dip my head along his, and finally, our lips slant together. Soft, warm, inviting, just like they were along my fingers last night. He’s hesitant, just pressing an army of feather-light kisses along my lips, and holding me tight. I quite quickly return his passion, curling up against him and opening my mouth to him, of which he takes sudden advantage. He’s certainly kissed before. His tongue is certain, velvety, and draws the sweetest of sighs from me, like a cacophony, I’m quickly melting in his arms. He holds me vice-tight, and my heart is finally at peace. The Force has aligned with us, and I’m finally released from such turmoil.

He smells of forests and home, that scent that I’d long become an old friend of.

I let him step me to the wall, where my spine sits along the cold marble pattern. His kisses run hot like a magma stream, and I realise how touch-starved he is. Never has he had such passion, such reciprocated feeling, and I wonder if he’ll buckle at the knees in a moment.

“Leila… Leila, I don’t think…”

“It’s okay. We can stop for a second. I understand.” I pull away from him, stroking over his ruffled red hair with a free hand. “I’m just as much of a loose cannon as you. It’s been a while… but the Force, it calls me to you.”

“That damned thing.” He smiles wickedly.

“Indeed.”


	9. Malevolence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila meets a bump in the road and is swept away from her life, much to the panic of the Jedi Council and Senators Amidala and Organa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm toying with the idea of making this a not happy ending :))))))

I wake in a foreign place.

I wake in a cell.

I wake alone.

The Force calls to me in panicked cries, shrieking, wavering along my ties with my Obi-Wan, but I’m far away. I’m gone, I’m parsecs away from my home. My head throbs in a delirious bob, like the wake of a wave, and I sit up. The cell door is glowing with an electric shield, vibrating like my assassin’s blades. Maybe they’d returned to finish the job off. 

We’re in space. I know that much by the evolving nothing-ness around me, and the whisper of the Force that rebounded off the blackness outside. No saber. No blaster.  
I chew on my lip, sitting up properly from the floor. My hands are bleeding, around my small wrists, from whatever was binding them, probably. Now, I’m defenceless in the jail, with only the soft vibrations of the cell doors to accompany me.

What the hell happened? My breathing is rough, but I calm myself down with a brief deep sigh. 

Obi-Wan… is he alive? The Force tells me yes. But the idea of him letting me go is a little too much to think about right now. I listen to the jail sector and close my eyes, focusing my thoughts on meditating. It had been so long since I’d done such a thing.

There’s thudding from the corridor. Mechanical thumps that only grow louder as they approach my door. It slides open, the grates no longer hissing, to reveal a… droid… or a cyborg, maybe, hunkering in the doorway, a huge thing. I blink silently up at it.

“Senator Saan… Obi-Wan Kenobi’s sweet plaything.” I frown, cocking my head at the beast.

“I’m no such thing.” I pause. “What are you?”

“I am General Grievous. You are now a prisoner of the Separatists. No one will come for you.” I harden my expression against the cloaked cyborg.

"That is a feeling I already know, General."

"Then perhaps you will be of more use to my Sith friends than I thought."

He stares through human eyes- ones that send chills through my spine. I settle on the ground once more, watching as the cyborg goes, the hilts of forgotten lightsabers swinging against his metallic torso. I pray for Obi-Wan.

Tell me that he hasn’t already fallen, Gods, tell me. 

No one answers.

And it stays that way for hours.  
—  
“Master Yoda… I was injured, it was my fault.” Anakin watches his Master plead with the Jedi Council from a few steps away. Padmé was here, too, in the background, crying quietly.  
In the small hours of the morning, Separatist assassins broke into Leila Saan’s quarters, injuring Obi-Wan, and taking the Senator prisoner. She has not been heard from since, and the ship delved into hyperspace, gone. Anakin feels the tremor in the Force. He knows. Deep down, he knows.

The bond his Master had grown and nurtured with the Senator was not his business.

The Senate was in uproar. With this crippling break-in, where many clones were injured on their purge of the apartments, and the kidnapping of a powerful and bold Senator, the Republic had been brought to its knees. A few members of the Senate showed how much they believed in the safety of Coruscant and left, running back to their home planets, desperate for certainties. Certainties that could not be given in this state of war.

It was the main aim of the Jedi Council to return Senator Saan to the Senate, safe, sound, alive.

Obi-Wan was upset.

“Master Kenobi, your fault it was not. Our fault for underestimating the Separatist forces, it was.” Master Yoda pauses for a second, calculating the look on Obi-Wan’s face. The ties that bind Master to Padawan are pulled tight. “Send you and Anakin to find her with the Clones, we will.” 

Obi-Wan stands stronger, and nods, giving short, successive bows to all of the Jedi Council, before disappearing through the door. Padmé follows, and after a goodbye, Anakin does, too.

“We’ll have to move out straight away. I’ll make sure Commander Cody is prepared. Anakin, come along. We have business.” A foreign emotion follows on Obi-Wan’s heels- anger, Anakin realises. Padmé grabs Obi-Wan’s arm and murmurs close.

“The connection you and Leila share is greater than any. Use your Force bonds to find her. Take her saber.” Padmé brushes off Obi-Wan’s shoulders with a soft expression. “Bring her home. Please.”

“I’ll do anything to bring her home, Padmé. Anakin. Come on.” Anakin brushes his fingers along Padmé’s arm and follows quickly after his rushing master.

“Master… we need to wait for the squadron.” Anakin insists. “Master, Obi-Wan, wait.” Obi-Wan whirls on him suddenly, a hand in the air. 

“Wait? I can’t… this is my fault. We… she is…” Anakin knows, he knows the feeling, and clutches his Master’s shoulder with a firm expression. Obi-Wan looks at his young apprentice and sighs through his nose. “Sorry, Anakin. I am overwhelmed.”

“Is your injury healed?”

“Oh, yes, of course. It was only a blaster.”

“Through your shoulder.” Anakin asserts, cocking his head. “You may be quick, Master, but you gotta be at your top to get Leila back.” Obi-Wan sets a solid appearance across his features.

“I will be.” He says, before turning on his heel and heading for the turbo-lift.

—

The rumours preceded the Sith torture techniques, and I knew of their machines. Grievous watches on as I’m strapped to the machine by droids, a Sith Master at his side. Count Dooku had grown old and haggard through the beginning of the Clone Wars, yet he held an inexplicable dominance over the room.

“Your reputation does not scare me, Grievous. I know you are weak.” I shout at the cyborg as he approaches, cloaked, eyes fixated on the droids beside the control panel. “They will come for me- I know it, and then you will die.” Three days and nights of being kept here by this clanker, and I’m ready to lose my shit.

“Succumb to the darkness, young Senator. This contraption will,” He coughs, a horrible, hacking sound. “Show you the way.”

“No-” The droid pushes the buttons, metal clicking against the panels. Grievous laughs as the electrodes initiate, closing in. I close my eyes and breathe, focusing on Obi-Wan, so many systems away, as the needles push into my skin.

Hello, darkness, my old acquaintance.


	10. Bruised and Battered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Grievous makes a bold statement, flaunting injured Leila off to the Council in a hologram. Obi-Wan sets out for their location.

I’m suspended in the bridge, much to the amusement of some nearby assault droids, who are quite obviously relaxed with the lack of Grievous or the MagnaGuards on the floor. I would raise my hand to them, but the hours of torture have almost blinded me. I’m weary with pain, sagging, my head lolling uselessly. Every nerve end in my body has been singed, my eyes blurry, skin tingling. I only raise my head to the thunderous steps of Grievous.

I know Dooku had left, luckily, and it seemed they were no longer pursuing my destiny as a Sith Lord, but instead, my use as a hostage to the Republic. I watch the droids out of dreary eyes as they set up a hologram device. I was bruised, battered, beaten within an inch of my life, and I struggled to even raise my head. I hope Obi-Wan would not be on the receiving end of this holo-call.

“Senator,” Grievous hacks, stomping into view. “How are you feeling?” He gives a chorus of coughs and then a malevolent laugh- one which the droids nervously join in on. He commands the droids to give the Council a call, on the secure line I assume they’ve set up- a line that can’t be tracked. “Dantooine will be a good place for us to settle, my dear Senator, and claim it as Separatist.”

He’s stupid. Or at least, maybe, he’s just less thorough than I’d thought. I could relay the location, the planet below us, back to the Council, if I could just see a well-trusted face. Yoda, perhaps.

There’s a crackle, a zap or two, then the Jedi Council appear, in a tight circle, only a few members, and one I did not want to see, who’s face harrows as soon as he spots me- Obi-Wan. Anakin is beside him, too, Yoda, Windu, Unduli, Secura and Mundi, they all look on with horror hidden beneath pallid features.

“Jedi Council… what a pleasure it is to finally gain your audience.” He signals a MagnaGuard along, and the intimidating droid stands close by, holding the electrostaff. “I think I might have something of yours.” He steps aside, letting them see me in full light. I watch bleakly, as Anakin’s eyes divert somewhere else, and as Unduli raises a hand to her mouth. “A Jedi hiding in the Senate? What a wonderful plot, Master Jedis.”

“A bold move to face us head on, Grievous.” Windu says slowly, not registering the news of my Jedi status quite so shockingly as the others in the picture. Yoda already knew. “And a bold move to make a statement against the very Republic with your war crimes.

I blink away a marring of grey from my eye and look up, matching eyeline with Obi-Wan, who’s face seems to crumple a touch. I expect my bloodied face isn’t quite the Senator he was hoping for. With a peaceful sigh, I begin to communicate.

_Obi-Wan. There is not much time in Grievous’ bold move, and I cannot speak for long. I am weak, and I am not prepared to fight, but I am alive. We are above Dantooine. I cannot give you the co-ordinates, but know this- there are only two frigates here._

My eyes begin to droop, and my body sags.

_My dearest Jedi Master, I…_

I black out before I can make another move, head thudding against my chest.

—

OBI-WAN

Her voice still bounds around the borders of my brain, but the deafening thud of her head to her chest sends a streak of pain through my heart. She’s been tortured, electrified, beaten, and now, her very connection to life was weakening. Grievous turns his head slightly. I’m forced to look away as he orders his MagnaGuard to electrostaff her once more.

”Look at that, Jedi scum. Your time is ticking. It seems the Senator has plans to reunite with death.“ Then, the holovid fizzles out. I step away from the Council, to the wide windows of the room to calm my breathing. Any such behaviour in front of the Council would be my undoing. Anakin is quick to join me.

He gives me a look, one full of meaning that I meet with equal ferocity.

”Dantooine. Above it. We must hurry. She fades quicker now.“ I manage to say, my voice wavering, before turning away and escaping the confines of the temple. Once into a transport for the barracks, my comms bleat, flashing red on my cuff. Master Yoda speaks.

”Senator Saan’s location, we have. Through power of the force Jedi Skywalker has found her.“ He pauses. ”At your command, the army is.“ Anakin, I thought, I will have to thank. No doubt he spouted some useless theory to the traditionalists up there, and luckily had convinced the Council of her location.

Not that it mattered. I would go for her anyway.

”Understood, Master Yoda. We’ll be off the planet in moments. Do send Anakin down, won’t you?“ I speak into the comms, staring into the city through a window, one hand stretched up to hold me in place. Leila still called to me, her voice smooth and velvety, like usual, but ever so quiet.

”May the Force be with you, Master Kenobi.“ I grip the hilt of my saber and watch, as the Venators begin to load up, clones piling in through the runways and landing pads. 

"And with you, Master Yoda."


End file.
